


In Vino Veritas

by Murphy



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Drinking, Gen, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14364597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murphy/pseuds/Murphy
Summary: After baring his past to the rest of the group, all Molly wants to do is drink and forget what was said and be left alone. Unfortunately, it isn't that easy.A missing scene from Episode 14, "Fleeting Memories".





	In Vino Veritas

His memory might only stretch back two years, but Molly can’t remember ever being this exhausted. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. In his bones, in his head, in his skin. From the sudden onslaught of heavy emotions radiating off of strangers, from answering question after question, from thinking about a past he spends every waking moment doing his best to never remember.

Zone of fucking Truth. The giant spectral lollipops and pastries and wide eyes belie Jester’s quick mind. He curses himself for not seeing the spell coming.

Once its effects wear off and the revelations of what had been said start to set in, Molly quickly excuses himself to head down to the bar, hoping to drown his sorrows in silence and solitude. But for a group of people that value their secrets, they are absolute shit reading social cues. Or maybe they just don’t care. Either way, Jester announces she’d like a glass of milk before she goes to bed and jumps to join him, and as they leave the room he recognizing the footfalls of Beau following behind them.

Fjord at least, bless his heart, stays put, muttering something about how they need to get an early start the next morning and starting to undress before the room is even empty. Nott and Caleb veer off to their own room, the goblin’s ears and shoulders drooping. Caleb catches Molly’s eyes and holds his gaze for a moment, and if Molly was more prone to guilt he might even blush. Instead he just heads downstairs.

The common area is empty, and the barkeep watches them as they descend. Molly fishes a handful of silver out of his pocket and drops it on the counter. “I would like a bottle of whatever is strongest that doesn’t taste overwhelmingly medicinal, two tankards, and a large glass of milk for my blue friend. With minimal conversation, if you would.” He tosses a gold coin onto the pile.

The keep raises an eyebrow but slides the coin over the edge of the bar. “You’ve got it.” He pulls a largish green glass bottle from a cupboard and sets it down before taking two tankards from where they hang off pegs on the wall. He disappears into the back room for a moment before coming back with a cup filled to the brim with milk. Jester makes grabby hands and lifts it gently from his hands with a loud thank you. Molly tosses another gold onto the bar, takes the bottle in one hand and the tankards in the other, and goes to the table closest to the fire and furthest from the stairs. As if distancing himself from what happened upstairs will push it further from his mind.

Jester sits down next to him, sipping daintily at her milk. Beau sits down across the table and slumps in her chair, an arm slung over the back, and looks at him. It’s more than a little unnerving. Molly focuses on keeping his hand from shaking as he fills their tankards half full of drink and pushes one across the table.

Before she gets her hand around hers, Molly lifts his drink and salutes her. “To reburying the past.” He takes a large swallow and fights to keep his throat from seizing. “Dear gods, that’s good.”

He drinks quietly, keeping his gaze leveled at a fixed point of the table, listening to the fire crack and pop. He misses the circus. No one ever pried or asked questions or made him think too hard. He’s known these folks for, what, two weeks? It’s not that he doesn’t think they’re worth really knowing him - though who’s to say since he barely knows any of them - he just never thought it would be this soon. A few months, half a year down the road, possibly, he’d have thought of something to tell them.

And that it would have been on his terms, that’s the big thing. Sitting there having the truth pulled out of him like teeth from an aching jaw was a nightmare scenario. And Yasha having to learn the truth with the rest of them almost feels like a betrayal. He knows she understands, the way he understands that sometimes she just needs to go, but she’s the closest thing he has to family now, and though he doesn’t regret living by omission, he does wish he had confided in her sooner.

Luckily, there are few things Molly has found that alcohol cannot soothe, and he focuses on letting it do its job of dulling the sharp edges of the evening.

For awhile, at least.

“Mol-ley,” Jester sings at him.

He barely suppresses a sigh. “Yes, dear.”

“Do you remember earlier? When I asked Caleb if he shaved his butt? And you thought I asked you and you said you might start?”

For all her cleverness, she’s still so sweet and guileless. Molly is almost jealous, and he hates to admit that the juxtaposition is what makes him like her more and more each day. So he indulges her with a grin.

“I do, and I still might.”

Jester bursts into bright peals of laughter. “That was really funny.” Her face becomes serious. “But Molly, for real. If you need help, I can help. I know how to do it. My mother provided a _very_ wide variety of services to her clients.”

He can only shake his head. “I am very curious and terrified about the things you have seen, Jester.” She grins back at him, pleased, and takes a large gulp of milk.

Beau slowing and steadily drinks without saying a word. Occasionally she glances at Jester but for the most part she looks levelly at Molly. She's appraising something about him and he can’t figure out what, exactly. He doesn’t like that.

“Did you come down here just to stare at me?” he asks, hoping to get a read on her.

The corners of her lips curl. “Honestly, I was just hoping you were buying.” She lifts her tankard. “Guess I was right.”

The stairs creak with the weight of someone descending. Molly looks over, hoping Yasha has decided to join him so he isn’t quite so outnumbered. Instead he watches Caleb step into the room and look around, and before can stop himself he sucks in a sharp breath and tightens the grip on his drink. He can feel Beau’s gaze shift. He needs to get his shit together and the fuzziness growing in his head isn’t helping.

“Caleb!” Jester waves a hand, as if they’re hard to find in this empty room. “Have you come to join us?”

“He’s with us,” Molly calls out to the bartender. “Could he get a mug, please?”

Caleb takes it from the barkeep as he passes by, looking down at it almost quizzically. He sets himself down in the seat on the other side of Molly but doesn’t move to pour himself a drink.

Molly takes it upon himself to refill his cup and gestures to Caleb’s. “Care to partake?”

Caleb tilts his head, considering. “In a moment, perhaps.”

“Suit yourself.” He sets the bottle down without topping Beau off. She doesn’t say anything.

“Molly?”

He turns to look at Jester again and stifles a laugh. She has her hands clasped on the table, looking as though she’s going to offer him a very lucrative business deal. She seems undisturbed by the thick milk mustache adorning her lip.

“Jester?” he responds, matching her stern tone.

“There is something else I was wondering...”

“Go on.”

“Earlier I asked about if you think one of our friends is attractive and you said yes.”

He doesn’t bother trying to hold back his sigh this time. He imagines if he had memories of being younger they would be filled with moments like these, and not for the first time he’s glad that time is blank.

“How old are we all again?” He mutters as he gulps down another mouthful of drink, glancing at Beau. She’s smirking at him now. He grimaces at the sight.

Jester cups her hands around her mouth and stage whispers, “Who do you like? Who in our group do you think is _gorgeous_?” She drops her voice into what she obviously thinks is a very posh accent on the last word.

Doing what he does best, Molly grins and deflects. “Well, myself, of course. Am I not part of the group?”

Jester blows a very wet raspberry at him. “Molly, you can’t not tell me. I will die of curiosity. I will be just like the cat,” she groans.

He leans towards her. “Alright I’ll tell you.”

Jester almost falls out of her chair with excitement. “Oh my goodness, yes!”

Molly inches his chair closer to her. “Do you really want to know? Who I think is absolutely beautiful?”

“More than _anything_.” She’s practically vibrating.

He waits until their faces are inches apart. “You!” He grabs her face with one hand a plants a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

She dissolves into a fit of giggles and pushes him away, wiping the spit off her face. “Molly, you flirt.”

As he settles back into his chair, Molly can see out of the corner of his eye that Caleb is filling his tankard now, smiling softly. His heart pounds once, twice.

“You are very nice, but I know I’m not who you were thinking about.” She licks her lips, catlike. “That’s okay. I’ll figure it out all on my own.”

“I’m sure you will. You’re very clever.”

Looking very pleased with herself, Jester yawns. “Alright, I am going to bed. Will you be okay with _these two_?”

“I’ll be fine,” Molly assures her with a smile.

“Okay. Thank you for the milk. I owe you two donuts, remind me tomorrow.”

“Oh I will.”

She gets up from the table and yawns again. “Are you coming upstairs, Beau?”

“In a minute. You go on up.”

“Alright. Goodnight Caleb,” Jester sings at him, carrying her glass up to the bar as she heads upstairs.

“So, Mollymauk, I got a question for you. Do you ever get tired of your own bullshit?” Beau asks, finishing her drink and sliding the mug across the table at him.

“No, but I’m sure I’ll be in trouble if that day ever comes.”

“You know, I don’t care if you don’t know your past, truly I couldn’t care less. Personally I think it’s dumb as hell, because the past doesn’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe it anything, so who cares. But you could at least own up to your current shit. Just be honest.”

“I didn’t come down her for a continuation of what happened in my room,” Molly snaps, hating how defensive he sounds. “I came down here, firstly, to be alone, but that obviously didn’t pan out, and secondly, to get as blindly drunk as I possibly could while still being able to find my way back to bed, which I still plan on doing whether you’re here or not.” He centers himself and flashes a toothy smile, pushing his chair back on its back legs. His tail flicks in agitation.

“You know, for someone who works really hard at being mysterious and all that crap, you’re starting to become _really_ fucking predictable.” She stands from the table in one fluid motion. “Thanks for the drink, see you in the morning.”

She kicks his chair as she goes by and he barely manages to keep himself from tumbling to the floor. He really needs to get better at seeing these things coming.

“Did you come down here for twenty questions too?” Molly asks Caleb, finishing his drink in a fluid - if swaying - motion. “To kick me when I’m down?”

“No, I just came down here for some peace and quiet.” Caleb reaches for the bottle and tops them both off. He has beautiful hands, Molly thinks.

“You know,” he says, reaching out and wishing their tankards were closer, to accidentally brush Caleb’s knuckles as he grabs the handle, “I thought out of all of you Nott would be the most interested in a nightcap.”

“Ja, well, she’s still thinking about how you said you might have eaten goblins in your past life, so she wasn’t too keen to come down here.”

“I know you probably think that was a little harsh but if I’m being honest, I could have said a lot worse.”

“I’m sure you felt a little.. ganged up on back there, with questions coming at you from all side. That can be very overwhelming, but I am sure she didn’t mean to upset you. She only wants to help you.”

“She knows absolutely nothing about me!”

“You also know nothing about you,” Caleb points out.

“I am the _only_ thing I’ve ever known.”

He looks over and Caleb’s eyes bore into his. He feels painfully exposed.

“He might have though,” he says, feeling a little too honest. “The person I was before. He might have been worse, even. I could be a terrible person.”

“No, never. I know you’re a good person. And I am an excellent judge of character.”

“You made a conscious decision to tag along with this ridiculous group, forgive me if I don’t totally trust your insight.”

Silence settles over them, but it’s not tight or awkward, though Molly isn’t sure if he’d be able tot tell if it was.

“Can I tell you how I am sure you are a good person?”

Molly leans on the table and props his head on his hand, his pinky just brushing the corner of his mouth. He’s feeling fond and fuzzy at the edges. “Tell me.” He curls his tail around the leg of Caleb’s chair.

“You woke up a blank canvas and you saw the world and you decided you would entertain people. You would make them smile and tell their fortunes and feel better about themselves. There are people who live decades and never make that decision. But you, Mollymauk Tealeaf, you are the only person in the world who got to truly build themselves from the ground up, and you _chose_ to be good.

“And that is why you are a good person.” He says it matter-of-factly, with a shrug of his shoulder.

Molly is too drunk for this. But Caleb is too sober, and is starting to feel overwhelmed, that much is obvious. He clears his throat and takes a large drink, turning away. Molly takes advantage of Caleb’s awkwardness to stare. Caleb is almost back to his normal level of filthiness and looks like he climbed out of the communal clothing bin at the poorhouse, but Molly still finds him frustratingly alluring.

He’s too drunk, but he’s still not drunk enough to be brave.

“I don’t think I’m very good at this, but I am trying.” Caleb sounds apologetic. He reaches out and briskly pats Molly’s forearm. “I do not know much in ways of friendship, but I do know one must be supportive. And I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own past. So whatever you decide, whenever you decide it, I will be there at your side.”

Before he can pull away, Molly grabs his hand. “You’re much better at this than you think.” He knows Caleb isn’t big on touch, but he can’t _not_. Not when Caleb is here and no one else is. His fingertips just barely glide back and forth over Caleb’s wrist. “Thank you.”

To Molly’s relief, Caleb lets him hold on. Caleb smiles and casts his gaze down, as if Molly won’t see. With his free hand, he finishes his drink and taps the tankard on the table.

“It’s late. And we have a long day ahead of us. So I think this is where I leave you for the night.”

Feeling a little disappointed, Molly lets Caleb pull his arm from his grip and stand up. “I guess I’ll finish this bottle on my own, then.”

“Or you could save it for another time you feel like getting some peace and quiet.”

“I could.”

“I wouldn’t say no to another nightcap.”

“Noted.”

Not knowing what to do with himself, Caleb shifts from foot to foot. “I’ll see if I can get Nott to apologize in the morning, clear the air.”

Molly waves the suggestion away. “Don’t bother, it’s not like I’m going to apologize either. What’s said is said, we’ll move on.”

Caleb nods. “Well then, I shall see you in the morning.” He turns and heads upstairs, not looking back.

Molly lets his head fall to the table with a thud. Thank the gods there weren’t any witnesses to that.

“Are you going to retire soon, sir? Not that I’m rushing you, but I wouldn’t say not to my bed right about now.”

He pops back up, his jewelry swaying in his peripheral. “No, you are right, my good man. I should quit while I’m ahead and still in control of my faculties.” He stands and everything he’s been drinking rushes to his head. He stumbles, grabbing the table to steady himself. “Most of my faculties.”

He tucks the bottle firmly under his arm, focuses hard on the other side of the room, and walks in a mostly straight line. Somehow he climbs the steps without missing one.

When he makes it to the top, he sees that Yasha is standing outside the room she’s sharing with the girls. “You’re a mess,” she says flatly.

He feels his cheeks flush, as much from the booze as from embarrassment. “I know.”

“Get some sleep. I’m not picking up your slack just because you can’t hold your alcohol.”

“I will.” He walks past her to his and Fjord’s room, but stops with his hand on the door. “You are my dearest friend.”

Yasha shakes her head at him. “So messy.”

“I am baring my soul to you right now, you could be a little more receptive.”

She sighs. “You’re my dear friend, too.”

“Thank you. I’ll sleep now.”

Fjord is sprawled out on his bed but thankfully not snoring. A small blessing. It takes him a few minutes, but Molly manages to struggle out of his many layers of finery and climbs onto his own bed. It’s not long before sleep starts to slowly wash over him.

Hopefully when he wakes, the alcohol will dull the memory of the fool he made of himself tonight, but not the lines around Caleb’s eyes when he smiled.


End file.
